Studying Italian

Nearly four weeks after I arrived, I was sitting on a plane on the jetway waiting for a delayed takeoff. Funnily enough, I didn’t mind the delay because it gives me longer in Italy. You would think after a month I’d be more than ready to go home, but with each city or town I departed during this incredible trip I felt an immediate pang of missing. This has been a great adventure.

In my weeks in Italy I learned so much. Arriving early Monday back to my initial point of arrival, I couldn’t help but think about the day I landed. It was so hot and I was unprepared to have to work so hard to find the necessary bus from the airport to Centrale Station, ignorant of the fact that it and Garibaldi Station were in fact the same location. After making my way there, I was uncertain how to access the Metro, or which of the two lines in which direction would take me to my accommodations. I opted to walk, pulling my carry on bag behind me for close to 2.5 miles in 90°.

My first couple of days in Italy were spent reacquainting myself with places I’ve stayed before. It was nice to gain some confidence in these familiar places before traveling to places which were for all intents new to me. Little things like recognizing a particular street or shop helped to prepare me for areas which I had not yet ever explored. 

The dissonance of being surrounded by people speaking a language I don’t know began to fade. I realized that between the similarity in Latin based words in both English and Italian, and a generous smattering of hand gestures and facial expressions, I could understand a fair amount and was able to communicate with some success. For sharing more precise language and thoughts, there was always. Google translate. 

I got good at reading all sorts of schedules – trains, buses and ferries. I became adept at determining which direction I needed to catch the Metro and on which line. Despite becoming capable of using public transportation, I walked for miles a day always my preference. One day, while in Liguria, I racked up the equivalent of climbing 78 stories walking 26,000+ steps. I relished these long walks as justification for my consumption of pizza, pasta and fried delights from the sea, as well as my time alone, realizing that I know very few people who would uncomplainingly cover these distances with me. 

While I am undoubtably adept on my feet, I remain awed by women wearing heels, both spikes and wedges, who were capable of making their way, seemingly effortlessly, on cobblestones and endless steps. The four pairs of shoes I had packed were uniformly flat and designed for comfort, yet I still exercised caution, particularly on wet surfaces. Being an observer of fashion, I noted a trend  in all three of the major cities I visited – shorts, often denim and always short, worn with cowboy boots. It was a cute look, but I have no regrets about recently donating my Frye cowboy boots to a consignment shop, recognizing that that style horse has long ago left the paddock for me.  

I spent money pretty freely, although I maintained balance between indulgences and low budget. Most mornings included fresh pastry and purchased cappuccino, augmented by yogurt and fruit which I bought from local markets. Speaking of markets, both Florence and Rome have incredible markets which combine produce, meats, cheeses and other local specialities. Additionally, there are purveyors of prepared foods which comprised the most fantastic food courts I’ve ever seen, and which I sampled as much of as possible. Eating breakfast or lunch at the market was extremely inexpensive and, without exception, was excellent.

During my month in Italy, I think there were less than a handful of meals (for 2) that rang up at more than $100. It’s very easy to eat well for little money which leaves me to wonder how Italians respond to the price of groceries and dining out when they visit the U.S. Wine and alcohol are also much cheaper in Italy. My preferred apertivo cocktail, an Aperol spritz, was typically €7 or €8, or $8-$9. A quatro of local house vino bianco, the perfect amount for one in my opinion, was generally about €5. 

This trip was certainly in many regards a vacation, but more than that it felt like a practice run for retirement and spending greater lengths of time in Europe. I found myself wondering what it would be like to live for a few months at a time in a particular area and immerse myself in a community to absorb a way of life which interests me. I took note of an Italian language school in Lucca and real estate listings in Napoli. I imagined holidays abroad with my sons joining me for festivities in a place beyond the borders of where we were all born and friends coming to visiting for relaxed vacations.

After a career in education, I’m more than eager to continue life as a student. I think it may be time to learn Italian.